


angel mine

by sakurahaiku



Category: ONEUS (Band)
Genre: Angels and Devils, M/M, Psychological, Seoho's name is never said, This is not a romance, Urban Fantasy, but the implication is that it's him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:28:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27317773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakurahaiku/pseuds/sakurahaiku
Summary: There is a corner of the city where very few venture; only the bums and the rats and the down-on-their-lucks call this place home. Geonhak finds himself here despite everything you know about this side of the city. It is the closest he can get to adventure in the drab and boring life he lives.(Geonhak knows he cannot find this feeling in Suburbia)
Relationships: Kim Geonhak | Leedo/Lee Seoho
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	angel mine

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween!
> 
> This is a rewrite of an unpublished and untitled short story I wrote back in October of 2014 (or at least that's when the final edit was saved). It has been changed from first person to third person, so if the tensing is a bit odd that's why.
> 
> Besides from the tensing change, adding of Oneus from unnamed characters, and the changing of Seoho's character into him from a woman, the content and the plot remain unchanged. 
> 
> Please enjoy!

There is a corner of the city where very few venture; only the bums and the rats and the down-on-their-lucks call this place home. Geonhak finds himself here despite everything you know about this side of the city. It is the closest he can get to adventure in the drab and boring life he lives. His way is lighted by dimly lit streetlights and the flickering neon glow of the lights on the sides of businesses and restaurants. He sees a McDonald’s and it is the closest thing he has to the comforts of his own home.

This is the corner of the city where no one drives except for seedy taxi drivers and the occasional car just passing through. No one stops for long; everyone is eager to leave. Except you. Geonhak will not leave to go to a place where it is safe. Geonhak does not leave because the feeling of one’s life being is danger is something everyone should have in their lives. Geonhak knows you do not find that in Suburbia, but rather in the dark and the unknown. Had he walked here in the day the experience would have been lost. So, he walks down the street, the shadows of his feet disappearing with the flicker of the lights.

He is walking to nowhere in particular, just going where his feet take him. Geonhak’s clothes are not warm enough to warrant this walk in the cold and nighttime air. He looks for a place to walk into and warm up but nowhere appears to be open. The few bars he sees open are falling apart and do not look appealing in anyway so Geonhak keeps moving.

It is then he sees it. The neon sign glows a little brighter than the others, though the building it represents is ten times as decrepit as the others around him. The bar is as seedy as they come, yet Geonhak cannot help himself and walks towards the door. Through the fogged-up windows he can see a glow of warmth and he hears the buzz of music and laughter. The sound rings in his ears like a choir, and despite the siding falling off the wall, he opens the door and walks inside.

A tinkling of a bell welcomes Geonhak as he enters. There are very few people seated, but the atmosphere is warm, and he can feel the coldness of the air and of the night leaving him as he takes off his coat and sits down on a stool. The bartender is nonchalant and lazy, so when Geonhak orders a beer he does not ask to see his I.D., even though he probably should have.

He sits in silence as he sips his beer. The music is not something Geonhak recognizes, and the bartender is off doing something else and does not care to talk to him. So, he sits, taking in the warmth of the building. All he wants to do is sit for a few moments and finish his beer and then he’ll be on your way. It is well past midnight, but Geonhak feels like the night is still young; he still feels the need to explore before he goes back to the melodrama of his everyday life.

And then Geonhak hears the tinkling of the bell welcoming someone inside and he turns his head. Walking in is the most beautiful man he has ever seen. He has dark hair that curls around his ears and crescent moon eyes the pierce him has he gazes over the room. By no means does Geonhak think he could be a model, yet he feels drawn towards him. He looks at Geonhak, smiles a little smile and walks towards the bar, taking the seat next to him; his heart is thumping in your chest as he turns to talk to him.

Geonhak can register the words he is saying, and he hopes he is giving coherent replies, but his focus is on him. He tries to place an exact shade to his eyes, but the influxes of his words seem to give them different hues, from the richness of an onyx stone to the demure nature of the night sky in the country. There are no words to describe the shape of his lips, the sharpness of his cheek bones. His nose turns slightly upwards, and little wrinkles appear on his forehead when he tilts his head back to laugh. Geonhak only sees the slight hint of the purple on his shirt from where the pale skin of his neck disappears under the constraints of the fabric.

He buys the man a drink, some fruity cocktail that he sips slowly. Then another and another. His cheeks are red and his laughs are a little deeper, a little more frantic. And then he runs off to the bathroom and Geonhak attempts to compose himself. His beer sits on the counter half-finished, and his hands are red and shaky and clammy; they run through his hair in a half-hearted attempt to make it look nice. He cannot seem to remember his name and does not recall asking it, but that does not seem to matter. He doesn’t think he has asked your name either. By the end of the night they can remain anonymous and never see each other again.

He comes skipping out of the bathroom, her feet stepping lightly on the ground. His eyes, crescent moons sparkling, bore through Geonhak, and there is a giddy smile plastered on his face. He looks at him and wonder if there was ever a man as beautiful as the vision before him. He puts his hand on Geonhak’s shoulders and whispers in his ear the promise of an adventure. His breath on his skin tingles Geonhak’s nerves and he finds himself pulling out money to pay the bill. He downs his beer and slips on his coat and suddenly the other is pulling on his arm, dragging him out of the bar into the nighttime.

The snowflakes fall softly on his head, and they form a halo of glow on the hair of the other man. He’s laughing, clearly giddy from the alcohol, and sticking out his tongue to catch the flakes. Giggling, he pulls you into a kiss and Geonhak gladly reciprocates. They stand there for what must be minutes, though it feels like hours, inviting in each other’s warmth. His hands are resting on the front of Geonhak’s jacket, and he wraps your arms tightly around his body, pulling in closer.

It suddenly does not matter that this is a man Geonhak has only just met; all he wants is to hold him and kiss him. He’s still giggling as the kiss is broken, and the sound is so infectious that Geonhak cannot help but join in. He breaks from his grasp and twirls around in the falling snow, and Geonhak thinks to himself that he must be an angel. Smiling softly, he plucks up the courage to say that to him.

He looks up at Geonhak with large, dark eyes, a mixture of confusion and elation, and he asks where he got that idea from. All he does in response is laugh, brushing the snowflakes from his hair, and pulling him in closer for another kiss. He kisses back tentatively, without the same enthusiasm as he had before. He breaks away from Geonhak once again, and, while he is smiling, the elation is slowly disappearing from his eyes.

He asks again where Geonhak got the idea that he’s an angel from. He stutters and says that he just looks how he imagines an angel to look like, nothing more. He stares into his eyes, and the confusion in them is starting to change into anger. The colour of his irises is ever-darkening, and the smile on his face is going from happy to malicious with each passing second.

One of his hands starts trailing up Geonhak’s body, and while he felt warm mere minutes ago, the only sensation that goes through his body is that of ice. He glances down quickly; when had his nails become so long, his hands so calloused? Looking back into his eyes, Geonhak sees now that there is an evil glint in his eyes. He feels his nails digging into his jacket, and he cringes as he hears the fabric rip.

The man is looking Geonhak right in his eyes, his grin becoming more and more devilish with each passing second. The onyx of his irises is slowly turning into a dark shade of red, mirroring blood more than the glimmering of a precious stone now. Snowflakes fall into his eyelashes, making tiny icicles. Geonhak finds that he is unable to look away, unable to free himself from the grip he has on his jacket. The weather around them has not changed, but suddenly Geonhak feels colder than he ever did before. His fingernails run harshly across his chest. His heart beats faster.

The other man tells Geonhak that there are no angels, and he holds his breath. His hands move quickly as he grabs his face and brings it closer to his. He can feel his fingernails leave small scratches underneath his eyes. He tells you again that there are no angels. Geonhak breathes out and asks if he’s a devil then. He laughs coarsely and says that there are no devils either. His fingernails dig deeper into Geonhak’s face and he wonder if he is bleeding yet. Instinctively, he closes his eyes and holds his breath. He prays for him to stop.

He laughs again and his prayers stop in his mind. Fingernails keep trailing across his face, and he can feel that they are lighter on his skin. Geonhak still feels uneasy and begins to squirm underneath the hold. He cannot bring himself to open his eyes, he does not want to see what the man looks like now. The fingernails trail lighter and lighter on his skin and suddenly he can’t feel them anymore. His body goes limp and he can barely feel himself fall.

Geonhak opens his eyes. He stares up and wonders where he is. Orienting himself, he realizes that he is back at home, lying in his bed. The blanket feels as if it’s suffocating him and he just wants to escape it. Geonhak squirms but the blanket does not give way. He can see the light peeking through the window. He wonders what that man did to him, wonders what had happened the night before. Bringing a hand to his face you feel for the scratches that are not there. He looks to the side towards his bedroom door and sees that your coat is hanging there without a scratch. Geonhak wonders what happened the night before.

His eyelids feel heavy and he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this. 
> 
> The original short story was a bit of an experiment into how first person characterization works, and changing it into third person was also a challenge, though a far more tedious one. The most difficult part of this rewrite was altering the description of the unnamed woman into Seoho. I had originally placed a lot of emphasis on emerald green eyes and long flowing hair, neither of which are traits that belong to Seoho. Hopefully what I have done is create enough subtle imagery to make it obvious that it's Seoho. I realized Dongju also fits in with the imagery, so you can also go back and imagine that it's him, but know my intention with this rewrite was to make it Seoho. 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Constructive criticism, comments, and kudos are always appreciated!


End file.
